


the deep end

by soulgraves



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:30:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3081233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulgraves/pseuds/soulgraves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The school are all a little overinvested in Sam and Blaine’s relationship. S4 AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the deep end

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lesblams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesblams/gifts).



> I wrote this a couple of weeks ago for [lesblams](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lesblams/pseuds/lesblams) birthday, [put it on tumblr](http://gravesouls.tumblr.com/post/104704849495/happy-belated-birthday-sammie), and then forgot to add it here, so, hi, have a ridiculously fluffy thing I wrote for someone awesome!

>   
> **BLAM SPOTTING**  
>  _by Jacob Ben Israel_
> 
> cheeriogurl11 reports seeing the Prez and VP at Breadstix Friday night, “sitting super close” in a booth near the back, and neither ordered the garlic bread. COINCIDENCE OR GOOD MAKE OUT MANNERS?
> 
> titanzrule informs us that Lucas Johnson (the kid with the awful personal hygiene but incredibly rich parents) is having a blow-out birthday bash this weekend, and Blam were spotted discussing plans to go together in the lunch line. ALL ATTENDEES PLEASE KEEP US UP TO DATE ~~since the Johnson’s have a ridiculous and unsubstantiated restraining order out on me and I will therefore not be able to attend in person.~~  
> 

  


“Do you get the feeling everyone’s staring at us?” Blaine asks, frowning as he catches a freshman’s eye. The girl turns bright red and looks away, and Blaine would be happy to write it off if it weren’t the fifth time it’s happened since he got here.

“Our school’s weird,” Sam shrugs. “You want a drink?”

“Yes,” Blaine says, hoping that guy on the football team is taking pictures of the girls from the swim team and not--

“Did Freddy Carson just take a photo of us?” Sam asks, blinking against the sudden flash, and sounding as confused as Blaine feels.

Freddy gives them a thumbs up.

“ _Drinks_ ,” Blaine says firmly, clutching Sam’s arm and heading in the direction he hopes is the kitchen.

Sam’s right: their school is _weird_.

 

>   
> **mckinleyhottie**  
>  omg omg omg i think blaine’s wearing sam’s shirt today????
> 
> **lisaaaa**  
>  @mckinleyhottie OH EM GEE YOUR RIGHT SAM TOTES WORE THAT LAST WEEK
> 
> **mckinleyhottie**  
>  @lisaaaa eeeeeeeeeek!!!!! #mckinleyshottestcouple #blam4promroyalty2013

 

“You okay, dude?” Sam asks, dropping his bag and twisting to face Blaine while they wait for Mr. Schue to show.

Blaine hums, picking at the hem of his shirt. “Does this look weird to you?”

“No,” Sam says immediately, because he’s had girlfriends and also because Blaine always looks awesome. “I like it. I’m pretty sure I have one really similar. Why?”

Blaine shrugs and chews on his bottom lip a little, and Sam wonders if he should offer him some lipbalm, though Blaine never looks like he needs it.

“About six different people have asked me where I got it; in the end I had to get Tina to check the label for me. I mean, I know plaid’s really popular right now, but--”

“You always look stylish, though,” Sam says, because it’s true. “They probably just want in on that.”

Blaine sighs, and Sam nudges his knee and grabs his rucksack. “I got the new _X-Factor_ ,” he says. “Wanna read it until Mr. Schue or Finn or whoever shows?”

“Okay,” Blaine says, offering Sam a smile, and Sam feels weirdly triumphant when Blaine’s fingers unclench from his shirt and reach for the comic instead.

 

>   
> **WILLIAM MCKINLEY HIGH SCHOOL OFFICIAL WEBSITE**  
>  (all enquiries regarding renting out space, please call Principal Figgins directly)
> 
>  
> 
> **_PROM 2013!_**  
>  It’s that time of year again, people! Time to put forward your nominations for Prom Royalty! Will it be the Quarterback and Captain of the Cheerios? The President and VP? Or the lovable Glee Club outcasts that perform spontaneous and inappropriate songs in the courtyard in order to try and thaw the cold, distant attitudes of their socially capable classmates? 
> 
> OH, THOSE ARE ALL THE SAME COUPLE YOU SAY?
> 
> But, really, don’t let this blogger’s bias sway your opinion. Nominations will be open until the end of the month, so go with your heart. And if your heart _doesn’t_ think everyone’s favorite sometimes-superheroes deserve the win, then please feel free to come and explain why to my face so I can calmly debate your point with my fist. 

 

Sam’s pretty used to people in glee getting in weird moods that they’ll eventually sing and hug out, but he’s, like, ninety-percent sure Kitty doesn’t fit in that category, which is why he really wishes she’d stop staring at him like that.

“ _What?_ ” he says eventually, and if it’s a bit snappy that’s mostly because he’s had a shit day. Kitty just raises an eyebrow, though, and that’s even more annoying.

“I’m wondering if you _knew_ ,” she says, eventually, rolling her eyes and looking at Sam like _he’s_ the one creating drama.

“Clearly I don’t,” Sam says, and silently reminds himself that it’s not Kitty’s fault his parents can’t visit this month, or that his truck needs a new headlight, or that he’s pretty sure he failed his fifth period algebra test.

“Huh,” Kitty says, tilting her head a little and narrowing her eyes. “Interesting. You should talk to your better half.”

“Blaine’s got sewing club,” Sam says, and Kitty smirks.

“Later then.” She shrugs. “Or just wait until the glee club gossip tree dusts itself off.”

“Okay,” Sam says slowly.

Kitty swings her ponytail and finally leaves, and he’s not sure if there’s something in the water, or if everyone’s been taken over by aliens like in _The Faculty_ , but Sam really wishes everyone would stop being weird.

When his phone vibrates in his pocket, he has a moment’s panic of _what now?_ but his shoulders lower a notch when he sees Blaine’s name appear on the lock screen. 

_Sewing club cancelled. You still around?_

Sam smiles and hits _call_.

At least something’s gone right today.

 

>   
> **BLAM SPOTTING**  
>  _by Jacob Ben Israel_
> 
> missmeow has informed us that, in honor of our Prez’s birthday next week, the VP is throwing a bash this Saturday night at the Motta Estate (where you didn’t see or hear anything, okay). P. A. R. T. Y. TIME, PEOPLE.

 

"Hi," Blaine says, blinking up at Sam from his spot on the hallway floor, "I can't find my drink."

"You finished it," Sam says, resisting the urge to laugh. "You finished it and then gave your empty cup to Tina as a thank you for her birthday kiss. Which we'll talk about when you're sober."

"Girls are nice," Blaine says, and then frowns. "Is there more drink?"

"Somewhere," Sam shrugs, and sinks to the floor next to his best friend. "I think you might want to pause for a bit though."

Blaine nods and groans and pulls an adorably put out face that Sam wishes he could get on camera; his memories of drunk Blaine are all pretty hazy considering most the time he’s right there with him, and even if assigning himself designated driver kind of sucks, it’s worth it to make sure Blaine has a good time (and store up another year’s worth of blackmail material). All week he's had the glee club performing Blaine's favorite songs, he got Marley's mom to bake an amazing cake with all the best comic characters on, and he saved up enough to buy two tickets to see Katy Perry in concert next year which he's going to wait to give Blaine until tomorrow when it's just them and a gallon of coffee. 

"This is a great party," Blaine says, leaning his head against Sam's shoulder. "Really, really great."

He slings an around Blaine's shoulders and smiles at the small noise Blaine makes into his collar.

"I've had such a good day," Blaine says, and Sam has to listen closely to make out the words. "I thought I'd be sad but I'm not. I'm happy. Happy birthday to me!"

"Happy Birthday to you," Sam echoes, and doesn't comment on the other thing. "You deserve to be the happiest ever, dude, don't forget it."

Blaine sighs, and Sam can feel the damp impression left on his neck. "Love you, Sammy."

He tugs Blaine closer and ignores the trio of girls whispering as they pass. “Love you, too.”

 

>   
> **rudyfraaank**  
>  @lisaaaa + @kimberz278 freaking out in the bathroom about #blam
> 
> **lisaaaa**  
>  @rudyfraaank @kimberz278 THEY SAID ILU LEAVE US ALOOOOONE
> 
> **mckinleyhottie**  
>  @lisaaaa @rudyfraaank @kimberz278 OMG WATTTTTT?????
> 
> **kimberz278**  
>  @mckinleyhottie we are such stalkers but *____*
> 
> **TheJacobIsrael**  
>  @kimberz278 @lisaaaa @rudyfraaank I expect a full, written update for tomorrow’s Blam Watch. GET PICTURES.

 

Blaine’s head still feels a bit sore, but Advil, plenty of coffee, and Sam’s _incredible_ gift are enough that he no longer wants to die; no one’s thrown him a party since he was a kid, and he thinks he’s probably thanked Sam about fifty thousand times by now, but he had a lot of fun and - honestly - he hadn’t known that that many people even knew who he _was_ , let alone cared enough to drag him into dances and conversation and shots like they were all good friends.

Sam reaches for his can of soda, straining so he doesn’t have to move his legs from where they’re tangled with Blaine’s as they watch _Justice League Animated_ episodes on Netflix, and Blaine grabs a handful of chips to hide his smile. 

“Huh,” Sam says, giving up on his drink and grabbing his phone from where it’s slipped down the side of the couch. “Uh--”

“What?” Blaine asks, distracted by Wonder Woman being awesome.

“Artie’s just sent me a text saying he’ll vote for us. Vote for us for what?”

Blaine shrugs and wonders if Mr. Schue’s come up with yet another ridiculous lesson to breed competition that comes to nothing. “No idea.”

“He’s sent me links,” Sam says. He’s quiet for a moment, and then: “Uh, dude?”

“Yes?”

“Did you know we’re nominated for Prom Royalty? And, like, the front runners?” 

Blaine looks up at Sam in surprise. “Wait, what?” Sam passes him the phone and Blaine scrolls through the articles from the official school website and Jacob Ben Israel’s blog and a couple of twitter hashtags Artie’s recommended, and _what the hell?!_

“I--” Blaine stutters, unable to form words. He takes a breath. “Sam, all these people think we’re dating.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, and he sounds strange; when Blaine looks at him he’s frowning, and Blaine mentally rehearses a bunch of different calming phrases along the lines of _“it’s okay, we’ll just show everyone how wrong they are”_ which-- makes him feel kind of sick again, actually, but he’s determined to stop Sam frowning.

He’s just bracing himself to talk it out, when Sam says: “I guess I see it.”

Blaine blinks. “See what?”

“Why they think we’re dating,” Sam says, shrugging. “I mean, we kind of _are_ , dude, let’s be honest.”

“But--” Blaine starts, and, seriously, this _lost for words_ thing is getting ridiculous. Shaking it off, he tries again. “Sam, we’re _friends_ , and you’re straight, and these people don’t know us, not really.”

Sam stares at him from the other end of the couch and Blaine feels too warm all of a sudden, fidgeting until he can reach the bottle of water that’s shoved between the cushions for something to do with his hands.

“Okay,” Sam says eventually, shrugging, and Blaine’s started to let himself relax when Sam just pulls himself up by his core and settles his hands on Blaine’s thighs, pinning him in place. Blaine’s pretty sure that using his awesome body like that is just _cruel_. “We’re still kind of dating.”

Blaine’s heart is pounding in his chest and Sam’s close enough that he can smell his own shampoo from where Sam had borrowed his shower earlier, can see the jutting edges of his collarbone beneath the collar of his t-shirt. “I think that’s something we’d both need to be aware of,” he says, and it comes out more of a whisper than anything.

The corners of Sam’s mouth tug up a little, and Blaine can’t stop looking at his lips, has tried _so hard_ not to think about-- about _any of this_ , and now Sam’s _pushing_ , and he can only stay strong for so long.

“So,” Sam says, “now we’re aware of it.” His eyes follow Blaine’s, and Blaine feels trapped and scared and desperately hopeful, and he knows Sam’s waiting for him to make the next move but he can’t, he _can’t_ , he--

Sam smiles against Blaine’s lips, and Blaine wraps his palm around Sam’s neck and kisses him like he’s wanted to all year.

“We’re _definitely_ dating now,” Sam says when they take a breath. “Maybe I’ll even tweet about it.”

“Don’t you dare,” Blaine says, grabbing Sam’s phone and throwing it onto the carpet, just in case. “But-- are you sure?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Sam says, rolling his eyes in exasperation, and Blaine laughs a little hysterically and knows they’ll have to talk about it, have to work out what it all means, but right now he’s eighteen and kissing the best boy he knows and it’s _everything_.

“Best birthday _ever_ ,” he says, tugging Sam closer.

 

> **samevans95**  
>  such a gd weekend for @blaineanderson’s bday #bestfriend #bestboyfriend #blam4promroyalty2013 

  



End file.
